Hang On
by WhiteNoise 266
Summary: There is no going back. He made a promise. He will keep it. It's the least he can do. After all those months of being nothing more than a shadow of what he once was. He knows it'll take him time. Or maybe he'll never open up completely about what happened. Maybe it's too painful. AU. OOC.
1. Prologue

**This has been nagging at the back of my head and I really wanted to put it up. I hope you guys like it. **

**Involves character death. **

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Wednesday, October 23

Tlhe room is filled. Tension that could easily be cut with a butter knife is thick in the air. He sits uncomfortably across from a scruffy looking man with kind gray eyes that seems unaffected by the vibe in the room. Even though they are kind, they are bright with intelligence. Grey storm clouds whirling inside clear orbs. They flash and for a moment it looks like this man knows everything about him: his childhood, his history, his likes and dislikes, his character.

He doesn't want to be here. He only did this for his family; the people who fully accepted him as one of their own. There is no other reason. And even though it hurts to talk about him he knows, eventually, he'll have too. Otherwise, what's the point of being here?

There is no going back. He made a promise. He _will_ keep it. It's the least he can do. After all those months of being nothing more than a shadow of what he once was. He knows it'll take him time. Or maybe he'll never open up completely about what happened. Maybe it's too painful.

He's just…so tired. Everything seems unreal. Like a hazy dream. A nightmare. It feels like he'll wake up any minute now, drenched in sweat and _he'll be there. _He'll comfort him and tell him it was just a dream. It didn't happen, he's still here. He's still flesh and bone and very alive. And to prove it he'll rest his hand over his chest so that he can feel his heart beating. It will be real. It won't be an image he conjured up to soften the pain. Ichigo will smile his crooked smile and laugh at him with his eyes for being so overdramatic over a dream. He'll huff in annoyance and pretend to be hurt but will snuggle up to the orange haired man anyways. And for the rest of the night Grimmjow will leave his hand over Ichigo's chest so that he can feel his heart beating strongly, the sound a lullaby that will lure him back to sleep…

He is interrupted from his daydream, by the man who introduced himself as Urahara, Kisuke. Urahara hands him a simple, black notebook. He looks up at him in surprise.

Kisuke smiles patiently. "I want you to write it. Everything you experience. What you smelled, wore, felt, tasted, saw, touched. Everything. If you want to add anything else I happily encourage you to do so. I want you to do this until you're ready to talk. I don't care how long it takes. Do you understand?"

He's stunned. How-What did-No. It doesn't matter. He doesn't have to talk. At least, not yet. He can wait. He has to wait. All of his thoughts jumble together like stupid letter soup. He can't find the words. The things he wants to say.

Gratitude maybe?

Relief?

Instead, he simply nods.

It is enough.

For now.

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**So? Wha'd you think? Please review! Oh and I'll try to get the next chapter for One step at a time when I can! Please be patient with me. TTATT**


	2. Chapter 1

**Excuse the crap grammer. Couldn't wait any longer to post this up. Review, please.**

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"**In monstrous time, the hear breaks and breaks a****nd lives in the breaking"**

**-Stanley Kunitz**

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**Sunday, December 1, **

Five months.

Twenty two weeks.

One hundred and fifty four days.

Three thousand six hundred and ninety six hours.

Two hundred twenty one thousand seven hundred sixty minutes.

Thirteen million three hundred five thousand six hundred seconds.

It feels longer than that but also like it happened yesterday, if that makes any sense.

I don't know why I'm writing in this piece of shit notebook. Maybe I needed something to distract me. I saw it lying there on my floor dejectedly and…I don't fuckin' know! How the fuck is this thing supposed to help me! It's not going to bring him back! It's not gonna fix anything!

…Fuck. I still have to do this don't I? Course I do. No one else knows what happened, I might as well tell his story. Maybe they'll remember him after this. Maybe he won't be so easily forgotten as that irresponsible guy who had his whole life ahead of him and ruined all of it by drinking.

I hope they don't remember him for that.

**Monday, December 2**

It's been five months to the date. Five months. Five. _Five. Five. Five. Six comes after five. Four come before five. Three plus two equals five. Nine minus four equals five. Five times one equals five. One divided by five equals five. _

_Five._

_Four. _

_Three. _

_Two. _

_One. _

_Boom. _

He's gone.

That fast.

Five seconds.

No more breathing.

No more beating.

Everything stops.

Freeze.

**Later**

Five months. It's been five months since he…I still can't say it. How the hell am I supposed to write it?

You know when they say it gets better over time? It doesn't. It gets _harder_. Because all the things that you do, you start to think how you would have done it with _them._

He's not coming back. He's not going to walk through that door any minute now like he always did. He's not going to scold me for smoking in the apartment or let me kiss him in apology or tell me his stupid jokes or blush that light pink I always loved or even fucking _breath in the same air as me._

What makes it worse is that all I can remember are the fights, the arguments, the shouting. Rare as they where, they still happened and that's all that comes to mind. I can't remember anything else. Not the laughs, or the parties or the times we got into trouble or the places we hung out at. It's like everything good has been erased and the only thing left are the pointless arguments that I wish had never happened.

**Tuesday, December 3**

Urahara told me I don't have to go back until I'm ready to talk. Good. I don't know if I'll ever be able to talk about it. Maybe one day. I just have to keep writing in this stupid thing. It helps a little, I guess. I don't really do anything anyways. I dropped out of college and quit my job so all I do is sleep in Ichigo's room. It smells like him. We did have an apartment but when Ichigo…I wanted to sell it but Isshin wouldn't let me. He said I could stay here in Ichigo's old room but that I had to promise to not sell the apartment. I don't know why. It's only a stupid apartment: an empty apartment with too raw memories and too much space for me to go back too. Nothing special about it.

**Wednesday, December 4**

This is shit. He's all I can fucking think about. All I do is think now. I think a lot about what we did when he.

I can remember when we first met.

It was raining.

The air smelled like vanilla and life. You ever smelled life? You know, when infant plants sprout; new and fragile? An aroma breaks out from that seed. It smells like new life. Pure. He was a lot like that. New. I wouldn't use innocent but…Naïve maybe? Yeah, that sounds right. I can even tell you exactly what he was wearing: a light blue sweatshirt, dark blue jeans and sky blue converse. All of these little details had been etched into my brain with a thin needle. I couldn't forget it. Not even if I tried.

_He_ was _bright_.

Always was.

Always would be.

I saw him first. His hair was drenched from the rain, making it a darker shade of orange. He had a grocery bag on each hand and instead of walking quickly to get out of the rain like a normal person would, he looked like he was taking a walk; just strolling through the city like it was nothing. I found it amusing and thought he was really stupid but who was I to judge?

I was out there because I liked to be outside when it rained. I know it sounds stupid; I could have gotten pneumonia or something. I didn't really care. Back then, I hadn't given a shit if I died tomorrow or the day after that. My father was an asshole who had left us and my mother was a slut who prostituted herself for cheap alcohol. I'd always preferred being outside than to be in that fucking small-ass apartment that smelled like sweat, piss and sex.

Being outside, was like escaping real life. Being outside in the rain made me feel smaller and less important. The rain didn't care that I had to beat the shit out of the assholes my mom brought home so they would leave. It didn't care that I drank too much, that I had shit grades or that I was killing my lungs by smoking the crap out of them.

There was something about the rain that I found comfort in.

But this was Ichigo Kurosaki.

I'd heard of him. He was a model student, loud, bold, and sarcastic, with his own group of friends. The opposite of me. I was the loner, the delinquent, the one who got into fights all the time and badmouthed the teachers. For some reason something that day suddenly made me want to go up to the orange haired boy and talk to him. At least for a few seconds, minutes…hours?

Before I could approach him, he reached me. He looked up at me solemnly with steady cinnamon brown eyes. I watched warily as the rain flattened his hair and ran down his neck and shoulders for half a minute before he surprised me and smiled a smile that dazzled me and made me see white and grey lights. He told me something no one ever had.

"I like your hair."

What? Did I just hear right?

"Um…"

"Sorry. I'm Kurosaki Ichigo. What's your name?"

I was mystified. Was this kid serious? Sure I had had the urge to talk to him but I hadn't thought it would be this weird. Yet I found myself answering his stupid question.

"Jaegerjaques Grimmjow."

His smile blinded me momentarily. "Cool name! Is it German?"

"Yeah…sort of."

"Ok. Well. I have to go get these to my sister so she can cook dinner. I'll see ya around!" he said in a really enthusiastic voice before walking away.

Huh. Not…what I expected, to say the least.

"Hey Grimmjow!"

I turned around to see Ichigo waving at me.

"Do you want to eat dinner with us?"

I think that was the first time I really started falling in love with that boy.

**Thursday, December 5**

I've been counting the days to Christmas. It feels weird. That the world is still functioning when my world has crumbled around me. Unfair in a way. Fuck, I'm just whining. Of course the world isn't going to fucking stop revolving for me. Heh. Just because my only reason to keep living is-

The sun is peeking through the curtains. It's weak and dim but it slices into the room. It won't be here for long. It's winter after all. The sun reminds me of Ichigo's hair. When it hit his hair it would make it shine a bright golden orange. I'd tease him about it and he would scowl and tell me to shut up.

I hate the sun.

**Friday, December 5**

Why the fuck is it so damn cold? I hate it. And I still hate the sun. It's contradicting but I really couldn't give a flying fuck right now. I barely noticed it's winter and the first day of winter was on October…I haven't noticed a lot of things lately. Karin's hair grew out and her eyes got harder, Isshin's starting to get gray hair, Yuzu's eyes always seem to have bags under them. I keep forgetting that I'm not the only that's hurting. Makes me feel like shit. Now I'm hurting the people around me too.

**Saturday, December 6**

It smells like cinnamon; spicy and sharp. Cinnamon and mint. Ichigo smelled like cinnamon and mint. Rain too. Is it a surprise that I really don't like rain anymore? Probably not.

The smell makes me want to scream.


	3. Chapter 2

**Again, I'm sorry for my shit grammer. I just want to post these up.**

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"**We are not allowed to linger, even with what is most intimate"-Rilke**

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**Wednesday, December 17**

Christmas in 8 days. First time without Ichi.

**Thursday, December 18**

7 days.

Yuzu drags me and Karin Christmas shopping. I freeze up when we get to the mall and feel sick to my stomach. I puke in the men's bathroom. We leave before Yuzu can look into a single store.

**Friday, December 19**

6 days.

I feel bad about yesterday. I try and make it up to Yuzu by baking gingerbread men with her but the scent is sickening. Yuzu smiles at me and tells me it's okay. She can finish by herself. I start my sluggish trek up the stairs but not before I see a little broken smile on her face that kills me on the inside.

I stay in bed for the rest of the day.

**Saturday, December 20**

5 days.

Karin yelled at me for being an inconsiderate bastard. She heard Yuzu crying in her room and knew it was because of me. I stared blank faced at her. She punched me. I didn't stop her. I have a bruise the size of an apple on my cheek.

**Sunday, December 21**

4 days.

The bruise is turning purple. Isshin asked me about it. I told him I tripped and fell into the desk. He didn't believe me.

**Monday, December 22**

3 days.

I keep the blinds closed because every time I look outside there's millions of little multicolored lights hanging everywhere. Choking trees and bushes. Dripping down from roofs. They remind me of lightening bugs, just with different colored lights.

**Tuesday, December 23**

2 days.

I'm alone in the house. First time. I hope I don't do anything stupid.

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**In the falling snow**

**A laughing boy holds out his palms**

**Until they are white**

**-Robert Wright**

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**Wednesday, December 24**

1 day.

I had a dream about Ichigo.

He was outside.

It was snowing.

The ground was covered in ice and slush. I could only stare at him in silence as he spread his palms up to the sky and stuck his tongue out to catch white snowflakes in his mouth. I watched him watch the snow drift down for a full two minutes before he saw me. He smiled that crooked smile meant only for me that crinkled the corners of his eyes and made them shine like melted caramel. He beckoned me to him with a gloved hand. Before I could take a single step Ichigo pointed up at the sky in wonder. I looked up to where he was pointing to see a shooting star rocket from one end to the other of the blue blanketed night, slicing a path through the stars. I realized it was night time and when I looked back to look at Ichigo he smiled sadly at me with guilt in his eyes and waved before a sudden rough wind blew and he dissolved into white snow. There is only dirty puddles of water left from where he stood. I stand there, not able to move. I'm frozen in place.

I look down at my hands and see them start to turn blue and black. My fingers start breaking off one by one. I see my distorted reflection on one of the dirty puddles and see that my lips are going blue and patches of black are blooming on my face.

I don't feel anything as I break apart piece by rotten piece.

**Thursday, December 25**

I can't breathe.

It's Christmas.

I want to stay here and sleep and never wake up.

Christmas seems big and fake and shiny. Ichigo loved Christmas. He would get a gift for every single person we knew. Considerate gifts, not cheap, last minute gifts that I probably would have bought. I never got him a gift like that though. Or his family. I loved them too much to do that. Huh. I've never said love as much as I've written it in here. I wish that I could tell him that I love him now. I wish that I had told him I loved him more often. I think though, that he always knew.

It still hurts to breath.

**Friday, December 26**

Yuzu got me a stress ball for Christmas.

"You use it when you're nervous or angry" she told me with a serious expression.

Isshin gave me Ichigo's necklace that belonged to his mother's. He wore it everyday. I try to tell him that I don't deserve this but he won't take no for an answer. It's tucked underneath my shirt, nestled in between the hollow of my collarbone.

Karin didn't get me anything.

I'm such an asshole.

I didn't get them anything.

Yuzu and Isshin say it's okay but that just makes me feel worse.

It's not okay. Ichigo would have smacked me by now if I had done this when he was

I wish I had gotten them something.

**Saturday, December 27**

I can taste the acid in the back of my throat. It burns a little and I imagine that inside my body a hurricane is slamming all of my organs around and leaving them deserted in a random place. My heart floating in my stomach, my intestines somehow got wrapped around my lungs, my liver nestled into the crook of my ribs, my brain squished into my left leg.

**Sunday, December 28**

I don't _want _to

I don't want to feel the _pain_ anymore.

It hurts too much.

Why won't it stop?

Why? Why? Why? Why?

Someone.

Anyone.

Make it stop.

Please.

**Monday, December 29**

There called panic attacks.

_Definition: A sudden overpowering feeling of fear or anxiety that prevents somebody from functioning, often triggered by a past or present source of anxiety._

I looked it up.

I don't remember any of it.

Isshin told me I started to hyperventilate, screaming to make it stop and then I started clawing at my chest. He had Yuzu and Karin get out before I went crazy and broke the table. He held me down so I wouldn't hurt myself. I'm pretty weak now so it wasn't difficult as it would have been before.

All I remember is the blackness and a wrenching burning. Burning in my chest that spread outwards, eating my insides.

**Tuesday, December 30**

I can't look at Yuzu or Karin. I feel so useless.

**Wednesday, December 31**

Yuzu and Isshin forced me to get up and eat something. I couldn't hold it in and puked before hiding under the bed sheets.

I'm never warm enough anymore. It's always cold.

I hate making them disappointed in me. I hate seeing Yuzu and Karin's faces fall like that. Well, really more like Yuzu is the one who gets sad and Karin glares at me with resentment. I think Karin's given up on me. That's ok. I'm okay with that. I deserve it. After all, if it hadn't been for me he might still be here.

**Later that day**

I forgot. It's New Years Eve.

It's been six months.


	4. Chapter 3

**Merry Christmas! Haha. I know it's been awhile since I uploaded but I've been pretty busy with school. Yeck. **

**Now that it's the holidays I might have more time to concentrate on my stories but no promises! I have family to visit, presents to open and delicious food to devour. xP **

**Anywho~ Enough of my rambling. On with the show!**

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"**What's this I feel, that clots the throat? The taste of nectar, the feel of wasps stings. The fond attention that makes me note. The shape of your hands and other things that do not matter." -Steven Slaughter**

**Monday, January 19**

The sun is hiding.

Dense white fog, like smoke, is blanketing the city and it turns everything humid. It's cold outside and I'm wrapped up in four heating blankets but my teeth still chatter and my skin is raised with goose bumps that trail up and down my arms. I can't feel my feet. The cold likes to bite at the tips of my fingers and watch them go blue and black.

I think it's four in the morning but I'm not sure. There's no clock in here anymore to tell the time. I broke it yesterday. It was Ichigo's Christmas gift last year. It was so ridiculous and childish and…he kept it.

Even if it was just a silly joke.

The clock was in the shape of a strawberry, with the clock handles fashioned into little hearts. It was pretty stupid. I saw it on the display window of a shop and immediately bought it. When Ichigo unwrapped it he went bright red and almost threw it at me.

I was laughing so hard I didn't feel it when he smacked me on the side of the head and told me to get the hell out.

But he kept it.

That's what made me go so warm that day.

I haven't felt that warm in what seems like years.

When I saw the clock though, it just looked ludicrous. Ichigo wasn't here to laugh at it anymore. He would never check it to see what time it was or slam his hand down over the alarm to make it shut up after it woke him. The clock would just continue to tick, as if nothing had happened. Time would go on. That's what the clock reminded me of on a fucking daily base. Each tick made me wince. I kept hearing this horrible chant in the back of my head every time the hand moved, like it was fucking mocking me.

_He's not coming back. He's not coming back. He's not coming back._

I threw it against the wall and watched it smash into a thousand pieces.

I know.

I know he's not coming back.

**Tuesday, January 20**

Yuzu keeps bringing me food.

I try to smile at her to make it seem like I'm a little better today but it's a crappy excuse for a smile. Yuzu is really good at these kinds of things. Like a mother's intuition is what you would call it. From what Ichi told me she's been like that ever since there mom died. Anyways, every time, she leaves the tray of food on the desk and sits there waiting for me to eat it. I cringe inwardly and take a few cautious bites. She's satisfied after three or four bites but lately she's been making me eat at least one more spoonful each day. After she leaves I wait for at least a good five minutes before rushing to the bathroom and puking my guts out. I feel bad afterwards but I can't help it. Everything tastes like either sawdust or rotting meat.

I can taste it in the back of my throat before my stomach roils and I can't hold it in anymore. I've kept it hidden from the others for awhile now but I don't know how long I can keep it a secret before they start to notice.

Hell, I can see my ribs clearly if I suck in my gut. Pretty soon I won't even have to do that…

**Wednesday, January 21**

Karin's stopped talking to me.

She doesn't come in either to say hello.

I'm kind of relieved though.

Yuzu usually had to drag her in and even when she succeeded in that all she did was glare at the ground mutter "hello" and get out as fast as she could. It makes me feel bad cuz her and I used to be real close before…yeah. I'm still okay with it though. Sometimes I wish Yuzu and Isshin would treat me the same way Karin does. I don't want them to be comforting and understanding. I don't deserve any of that. I don't deserve their love or compassion.

**I want them to hate me.**

It would be so much easier.

I wouldn't want to cry every time they hugged me and told me it was okay. Because I know it's not. It's not okay. It's my fault Ichi's…

**Thursday, January 22**

I still can't write it. Fuck.

**Friday, January 23**

I keep trying to bring up memories where Ichigo is smiling.

I remember…the little things.

I remember him loving the rain, like I did. I remember him liking chocolate with cinnamon, nutmeg and exactly three marshmallows.

His favorite color was purple.

He loved the Pirates of the Caribbean series, cried during sunsets and ate peanut butter from the jar with a spoon.

I remember his funny way of scrunching his nose when he was upset or smelled something funny, his favorite comic being Calvin and Hobbes and his collection of sand dollars. That he hated muggy weather, wearing socks in the house and spiders.

There are two things that I remember the most.

When it was late out and the rain was beating against the windows in a comfortable thrum He would make me read poetry to him in German. You wouldn't expect it from me to read shit like poetry but he knew I couldn't resist it when he gave me that look with gooey apple brown eyes. I pretty much did whatever the fuck he wanted me to do. He had a book of German poetry, long before he met me. It was old and yellowing with tons of tiny multicolored sticky notes to mark his favorites. He would snuggle up to me, pulling a blanket over the both of us and listen to me read in my native language. Sometimes he would make me translate, other times he liked the way I made it sound and didn't want me to tell him what it meant. There were more than a couple of times where he dozed off on my shoulder and I hadn't noticed till I was half way through a poem.

The second was his weird fixation on space. He would drag me outside and point out the different constellations, knowing each by their appropriate names. We would stand out there; watching the stars winking down at us as he spouted nonsense on the different cycles of the moon and how stars were actually just balls of gas and other shit like that until I would pull him close and shut him up with my lips.

I would hold him for several minutes, kissing under a night pregnant with starts like those mushy romance movies that we both hated so much and loved to make fun of.

Every time I pulled back I told him I loved him.

Every fucking time.

And he would smile that crooked smile meant only for me.

**Saturday, January 24**

When I can't fall asleep I try counting backwards.

It helps. Sometimes.

Usually, I can't go to sleep at night because I've been sleeping all day. And even then I still have those dark half moons under my eyes that show up when you're not getting enough sleep.

But now, even during the day I can't sleep. I just stay there, buried under the covers of Ichigo's bed that smells like him. I'm terrified that the smell is going to start to disappear. Every time I breathe in I smell a little less of that cinnamon mint smell that was his.

**Sunday, January 24**

The smell of cigarette smoke is acrid. If you're sensitive enough the odor alone can make your eyes water and your throat burn. To me the smell is different. It's comforting. It's like that incense crap that people seem to love but I think smells disgusting.

It was thick and annoying and harmful for you; I could relate.

Ichigo hated it.

When we first met I ignored his complaining. When we became friends I teased him about it, going so far as too blow smoke rings at his face. I gradually started smoking less and less when we started dating. Then after three months of being together he asked me to stop.

"What's wrong Ichi? Can't handle a little smoke?" I asked teasingly.

He frowned deeply and waved his hand in front of his face when I blew smoke in his direction.

"Don't be stupid. It just smells disgusting and it's bad for you."

I snorted. "And?"

Ichigo sighed deeply and sat next to me, snuggling closer which surprised me because usually, when I was smoking he would avoid me like I was the plague.

"Can you just stop? Please?" he asked calmly, looking at me with those large brown eyes that he knew I melted so easily too.

I groaned. "Aw shit, not fair! Whyyyyy?" I said in what totally was not a whiny voice.

Ichigo actually turned pink, burying his face in my shoulder. "Because. I don't want anything to happen to you." he said quietly, the words were muffled but I heard him clearly.

My eyes widened in surprise before I grinned. "Awww is the strawberry worried about me?"

"Shut up asshole."

I chuckled. "Ok. I'll stop."

Ichigo's head snapped up so fast I thought it would fall off. "Really?!"

"Yep."

"…Ah…Why?"

I snorted, looking at him like he was an idiot. "I don't know, maybe because you just asked me to?"

"Shut up! It's just…you never do anything I tell you to do." he muttered.

I shrugged. "I guess persistence pays off."

Ichigo looked up at me, studying my face for a split second before smiling crookedly.

His eyes told me he knew I was lying.

But he didn't say anything.

He knew already.


	5. Chapter 4

**This was a "meh" chapter for me. I don't know...**

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**It's hard to deal with the pain of losing you everywhere I go**

**But I'm doin' it**

**It' s hard to force that smile when I see our old friends and I'm alone**

**Still harder gettin' up, gettin' dressed, livin' with this regret**

**But I know, if I could do it over**

**I would trade, give away, all the words that I saved in my heart**

**That I left unspoken**

**-Rascal Flats, What hurts the most**

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**Wednesday, February 12**

I saw Renji today. He almost didn't see me but he didn't look any happier when he did. I never thought I'd hate Renji. He and Ichigo had always been so close and when you got through his loud idiot behavior he was a loyal and trustworthy friend.

But…just seeing him there looking healthy and happy next to a girl with raven colored hair that I vaguely remembered as Ruka or Rika or something like that made me want to punch him in the face.

He didn't even look different.

He didn't look like he was turning into a fucking corpse. He didn't have bags under his eyes or shaking hands from never being warm enough or even a fucking wrinkle to show that he had suffered like I had; like I still was. He didn't look like it had even bothered him.

Like it was fucking useless to care.

The son of a bitch had moved on.

That's why I hated him.

"Oi! Abarai!"

My voice sounded pathetic. Even to me.

I saw him flinch and quickly try to cover it but I had seen it. The raven haired girl turned in my direction with a frown. I sneered halfheartedly at her and she turned back to Renji, telling him something I couldn't hear.

I started walking up to him. He wasn't getting rid of me so fucking easily.

They seemed to be arguing as I got closer when suddenly Rukia (I remembered her name) pushed him aggressively in my direction. He sulked for a little but slowly started walking up to me.

I stopped moving.

For a minute, I stopped breathing and then I remembered how to work my lungs.

In. Out. In. Out.

Inhale. Exhale.

"What do you want Grimmjow?" he murmured, never even glancing in my direction, as if he couldn't bare the thought of looking at me.

What did I want?

I wanted break his nose.

I wanted him to tell me that he had been suffering these past few months like I had.

I wanted for everything to be as it once was.

"What the fuck do you mean what do I want? You know what I want? I want to know why you look like you're having the best time of your fucking life while he's d-" I choked on the last word, feeling it lodge in the back of my throat in a painful lump.

I couldn't. It would just solidify that he really was gone. That he would never come back.

Renji's eyes widened but he still refused to look at me directly. Was I really that disgusting to him?

"Look at me you bastard! Why won't you FUCKING LOOK AT ME!" I roared in his face

Renji finally looked at me. "WHY? YOU WANT TO KNOW WHY? BECAUSE I CAN'T STAND SEEING YOU LIKE THIS, THAT'S WHY! IT'S BEEN EIGHT MONTHS GRIMMJOW. _EIGHT._ _" _He scowled darkly, voice lowering, "Look Grimm, it's not the same as it once was okay? I can tell just by looking at you that you still miss him. I miss him too but it's not going to change the fact that he's-"

I slammed him against a nearby wall, seeing red.

"Don't you say it. Don't you dare fucking say it Renji." I snarled in his face clutching the front of his shirt.

Red, red, red.

Renji pressed back against my chest, trying to push me off of him. "It's true! It's true and you fucking know it Grimmjow! Doing this too yourself isn't going to bring him back. He's not fucking coming back Grimm."

The burning sensation behind my eyes just fueled my anger.

"You think I don't know that." I whispered, feeling defeated. "You think I don't remind myself every minute, every second, of every fucking _day_."

My anger disappeared just as quickly as it had come when I saw tears pricking maroon eyes.

"Then stop doing this to yourself you fucking idiot."

I'd never seen Renji cry before. He didn't cry when he broke his arm trying to do a back flip on the roof because of a drunken dare or when his dog got hit by a car or when his grandfather died or even at Ichigo's…

I swallowed, tasting bile in the back of my throat. "What the fuck do you know Abarai."

"You're such a shit head you know that Jaegerjaques? It wasn't easy for me either. He was my _best friend_ and then, just like that, poof! He's gone. In a fucking cloud of smoke. And nothing _changes. _It's like his death didn't even matter-"

I shivered at the word that rolled off Reni's tongue to land in the sidewalk like a drop of acid eating away at my insides.

"I know how you fucking feel you moron. But if you don't let your friends, your _family_ help you the pain is never going to go away." he said with a sad smile.

"Maybe I don't want the pain to go away." I said lamely, my arms falling to my sides like sacks of flour.

I felt so heavy.

"Yes you do. You just want to keep it because you think it's the punishment you deserve for-"

"Don't say it. Please." I said brokenly.

"Sorry Grimm. I-I didn't mean to." Renji sighed, sounding frustrated. He wasn't any better at dealing with emotions than I was. "Look man, what I'm trying to say is…your not alone you know that right? Ichigo's family is hurting too."

I looked away. Of course I knew that. I was reminded of it every day.

"Yeah. I know." I said, so tired I could feel it in my bones.

So tired of everything.

Before Renji left he gave me an awkward hug that neither one of us knew how to react to.

I smiled at him, not fooling anyone.

"I, uh, I'm here if you need to talk kay? Don't do anything stupid Grimmjow."

And with those last words of advice he left, walking back to a worried looking Rukia who smiled at me shakily.

Oh yeah. Her and Ichigo had been good friends too.

I nodded at her and walked away before I could shatter any further.

**Thursday, February 13**

God, I don't think I can do this. Renji's right. It's been eight months and the pain hasn't even dulled a little. It's just…there. Time hasn't done shit. It hasn't healed anything. It's pretty much a two faced bitch that slaps you with reality when it wants too. I hate it. Sometimes I just wish I could erase the whole thing.

Or go back.

Yeah.

Go back to before we met and keep walking when I saw him there in the rain with his laughing eyes and sunrise orange hair and his plastic bags. That I had never stopped and thought of walking up to him to talk. That my mom hadn't been a bitch and made me throw out _another _guy and that I hadn't stormed out in rage because she had spent the last of our money on fucking pot. That I hadn't been coincidentally walking in the street Ichigo lived in trying to escape from my piece of shit life.

Maybe none of this would have happened.

Ichigo would have been alive right now. He would still be drawing little cartoon sketches and writing random stuff on his bedroom walls and having a normal life like he was fucking supposed to.

He was only twenty-four.

This wasn't supposed to happen.

He was supposed to finish college and become an astronomer and travel somewhere exotic and write a book and study art and literature and other subjects that he really didn't

even need but wanted to know about and have a family of his own.

But he's gone.

And that's what kills me.

**Friday, February 14**

I hate Valentine's Day.

**Monday, February 17**

Fuck.

Fuck, fuck, fuck.

I messed up.

I messed up big

I got drunk on Valentine's Day.

I was so shit face I passed out in my own vomit on the bathroom floor.

I don't remember anything after touching the bottle.

I went downstairs to find something to distract me from possibly fucking _cutting_ myself when I saw the bottle.

It was just there; resting dejectedly on the table.

I remember staring at it for what seemed like hours. I couldn't tear my eyes away from it. And then I saw a hand reaching for it and I realized later that that hand had been mine.

What's worse is that Karin was the one to find me. Yuzu told me later that Karin had freaked out thinking that I had done something incredibly stupid before she found the bottle in the bathtub. She kicked me awake, furious. Yuzu came in before Karin could beat the shit out of me but she got real fucking close. I'm pretty sure that she hates me know. It's okay that she hates me. Lately I'm okay with a lot of things. Most of them I deserve them anyways right?

**Tuesday, February 18**

I wonder if there's a Heaven and Hell.

I didn't believe in God before I met Ichigo.

And if there was a God I was sure he thought this was all a big sick joke to him.

I don't know what to believe in anymore.

For some reason, thinking that there's a place out there with Ichigo in it gave me little comfort. Because what the hell was the whole point if I couldn't be with him? If I couldn't see him or touch him or hear him.

But Ichigo being the freaking person that he was didn't believe in Heaven or Hell exactly. He thought there was something out there for us after we died. That every person went somewhere we're they belonged. At the time, I had scoffed and teased him about it.

But now…I can't help but hope that Ichigo's still out there.

Even if I'm not with him.


End file.
